The Life and Times of Peter Lowery
by HalosandHeroes
Summary: What was Pete's life like before Gabriel found him? Not fun, he'll tell you as much. Part of True Vessels 'Verse.


It was a back alley of some dirty bar on some dirty street that nobody cared to learn the name. And snowing. What else do you expect from a December blizzard in Chicago?

Heather pulled the old coat she had found in the dumpster tighter as she hunkered down, hoping the baying hounds of blood and death and shadow wouldn't find her. A soft sigh was heard from the nine year-old boy she had shoved behind her. She glanced back to look at her child.

Peter Lowry. Light of her miserable life. Reason for her death.

See, ten year ago, Heather met a guy. One of those big, strong, military types that she fell for. Hard. Unfortunately, GI John didn't love her back. Her satanic roommate somehow talked her into making a deal with a crossroads demon to get John Winchester to fall in love with her. She got ten years.

After a whirlwind romance of three months, John disappeared into the night, leaving a heartbroken and pregnant Heather to fend for herself. She almost aborted her son several times, but some feeling, some soft voice of kindness stopped her.

And now here she was: minutes are from being torn to shreds with a son that was about to become an orphan.

Heather pulled the blanket around her son tight, making sure her note was tucked in one of his pockets. She jumped when the hound bayed again.

Then, sweetly, the doomed mother stooped down and kissed her sleeping son. "Goodbye, sweetheart. The angels will protect you now."

Heather stood to her full height of a measly five-one and marched down the alley to meet the Devil, head held high.

.

Peter was always the odd one out. Too smart, too serious, too aware of just what was out there to pretend that he was just another little kid in a foster home. None of the foster parents seemed to like him either; they thought he had been grievously abused by the last family and would send him back, saying the same old 'it's not you, bud, it's us. We just can't give you the life you deserve.'

It's fine, though. Peter's use to it by now. Hell, he doesn't even shed a single tear!

It made it all the worse when he finally found a family he thought would love him back.

The day Leonard Braeson and his two sons came to meet him, Peter knew that this was the family for him. They were funny, caring, and able to look past the soldier look he'd had in his eyes since December 24, 1997.

When they took him home to foster him, Peter was sure that this was the last time he would ever see the orphanage. In a way, it was.

For three long years, Peter lived with the Braesons. The first two of them were absolute bliss and the whole little family got along great. They would eat together every night, play football on the weekends, celebrate Christmas eve and got to church every Sunday.

Yes, Peter's life went swimmingly. Until about ten months ago when Liam, the second oldest, starting going around with a gang. He refused to go to church with them, got weird piercings or tattoos, and generally got mixed up in things that no man should.

In shock, Leonard stopped going to service and hit the happy juice like a professional. Ryan, his oldest, turned hard and cold, butting heads with Liam whenever he actually decided to come home. All and all, Peter's perfect little life fell apart.

After about two months, things took a turn for the worse. This big goony guy and his two underwear model sons started sniffing around the neighborhood, looking for Liam.

"Why are you here?" He finally ask the puppy dog-looking one when he saw him alone at the park one day.

"We're looking for my little brother. We think he got kidnapped when he was ten, from Chicago, the night his mother was murdered. I'm really worried about him, my dad thinks some real bad people got him."

Peter swallowed thickly, "Your brother, he got a name?"

"Peter Lowrey."

He smiled weakly and pulled his shaky hands into his lap. "You found him."

"You?" the guy whispered.

"Me. Dad ditched Mom right after he got her pregnant and left her to fend for herself at eighteen and alone. Something got her Christmas night about five years ago, and I got put in the foster system because Dad couldn't find it in him to claim his son."

Peter's companion clenched his hand, loosened them, and passed Peter a card. "I have to go talk to Dad, Pete, but we'll be back to get you later. Just. Stay away from Liam and his friends for tonight, yeah?"

Peter nodded dazedly and stumble back to the Braeson house. He waited, and waited, and waited, but his new family never came. Figures.

Nobody ever really wants Peter.

He snuck down near midnight the night when he heard a crash. A bag was slung over his shoulder with everything he would need to disappear.

The crash revealed it to be a drunk Liam and his new friends. They were drunker than skunks and giggling maniacally.

"Well if it isn't little Petie Lowrey. The boss really wants you," Liam hummed. He blinked and his eyes flashed black.

Peter threw a glass from the kitchen table at Liam and sprinted out of the house and as far away as he could get before hiding in a tree in the woods by the little town he lived in with the Braesons.

Sam was right. He should have stayed away from Liam, because what. The hell. Was that?!

Peter thought about dialing up Sam and the rest for his family several times over the following years as he hid out with a couple homeless guys named Magnus and Kyle in the slums of Chicago. Ever time, though, he was reminded that they never came back for him.

.

"What do you mean we're not going to go get him after we exorcise the demons?!"

"Sam, Peter has a good life here with Leonard and his boys. I'm not going to drag him away from that, and it's final. Now go help your brother get ready."

Sam's face hardened. "I'm tired of taking orders from a man who can't see me for me and can't be bothered to claim his own son or help the mother of the child when she had no one to turn to. I'm done, John. I am going to college after this hunt, and you can't stop me. Mark my words, John, you will regret not going to get Peter. On this day, you haven't just lost one son, you've lost two."

"You get your ass back here, boy! We aren't done."

"No," Sam seethed coldly, "I think we are. Now excuse me, but I have to got help my brother get ready to save the kid he doesn't even know is his little brother."

John took his knowledge of Heather's deal to his grave to save all of his sons the shame that came with it. He regretted not saving his son that night, and every night he didn't look for him after. Because Sam was right; he should have saved his boy.


End file.
